Stir Me (Rouse Me 2)

My law school friend who lives in New York. My supposed emergency contact. I see him occasionally, but there's nothing he could do now.

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"Don't call anyone. I'm an adult. I can take care of myself."

She looked at me with pity. A look she learned from Ryan, no doubt. She shook her head, tsk tsking like a teacher scolding her second-grade student.

We settle our disagreements with words, not fists.

But she lost interest as soon as I closed the door. Probably skittered back to Ryan's office to suck up again. Poor girl has no idea he'd never date his secretary. Wouldn't look right. Wouldn't appear professional.

He deserved this.

But that doesn't matter anymore.

Yes, Ryan is an asshole. Yes, he hurt Alyssa. Hell, he hurt me plenty of times with his judgment and his constant attempts to drag me back here for every minute of my life.

But I am an adult.

However awful he is, however much I hate him, however good it might feel, it does me no good to hit him.

Yes, Alyssa would have been mine so much sooner if he hadn't fucked with her so royally. But she's not mine right now, and Ryan had nothing to do with it.

I have to take responsibility for my decisions and my mistakes.

This time, I was the one who hurt Alyssa.

But I'm not going to wallow. I'm going to make it up to her.

"I didn't know who else to call. Mr. Lawrence sometimes has lunch with a college friend--a Mark--but he lives in New York."

"It's okay."

My heart thuds against my chest. It's Alyssa

Fuck. She isn't going to like this. She's got some silly idea that I'm holding on to the past.

Ridiculous, I know.

The door to the office opens. Even now, even though we're separated, she's still a beam of light in my gray existence.

She has pity in her eyes. But there's something else there. An affection.

Like she thinks it's cute I resorted to hurting Ryan. Like my defending her honor is endearing.

Who am I kidding? It wasn't for her. It was for me--because I hate that fucker and his stupid face. It's not just because he hurt her, but because he hurt me, because I had to see his ugly face every day for three years. Because I have to see every asshole he represents--another fucker who ruined his wife's life, who took away everything that ever mattered to her and tried to take away her kids and house too.

I hate him because he is my asshole father, only thirty years younger and infinitely less charismatic. I've tried watching everything I care about get taken away. I've tried holding on for dear life, and it hasn't done me a bit of good.

There's no sense in holding on to anything that isn't Alyssa.

She looks me over. A tiny smile spreads across her lips. I feel her fingers against my cheek. It's a dull pain, but it feels good all the same.

"I thought I was the one with issues," she says.

I shake my head. "I was defending your honor."

"Uh-huh."